Civil Unrest
by Trent Roman
Summary: A Vulcan's report on a brawl in Quark's Bar.


Disclaimer: I do not own Deep Space Nine, Quark, Julian Bashir, Ezri Dax, Nog, Odo, Sisko, etc; they are Paramount' property. Borjas and the _Nimitz_ are Peter David's. I figured that after an EXO like Stone, Borjas would appreciate a nice, stable Vulcan for first officer J. This would never have been possible with the efforts of all the individuals who contributed to making Star Trek and Deep Space Nine the detailed world it is now. And, of course, to the master, Gene Roddenberry. Takes place sometime between "It's Only a Paper Moon" and "Penumbra", mid-seventh season.

# Civil Unrest

## Trent Roman

### To: Captain Borjas, Commanding Officer, U.S.S. _Nimitz_

### From: Commander Sumak, Executive Officer, U.S.S. _Nimitz_

#### Stardate 52374.5.

Re: The incident of civil unrest what took place in Quark's Bar, Space Station Deep Space Nine, at nineteen hundred hours, stardate 52373.7.

The following is my account of the incident of civil unrest that took place in Quark's Bar, Space Station Deep Space Nine, at nineteen hundred hours, stardate 52373.7. It contains a description of the causes of the incident, the exact nature of the incident, my participation in the incident and the resulting consequences.

I decided to disembark from the _Nimitz_ once the beta shift had ended and my presence was no longer required on the bridge since the delta shift took over ship's operations at sixteen hundred hours. As I had no further reports to log in to Starfleet, and all my extraneous shipboard activities were either completed or could not be furthered at that point in time, I was left with five point four hours of time with no previously scheduled activities. As I was not in need of meditation1, I decided that I would disembark to Deep Space Nine and observe the station, in accordance with my personal mantra2.

I disembarked at sixteen hundred hours and twenty-nine minutes. For the following one point five hours, I toured the section of Deep Space Nine known as the Promenade, which is an assembly of various small shops selling mostly an assortment of goods, although there are a few dining establishments and one section devoted to the religious needs of the Bajoran population of the station. Though some of the items on displays were fascinating, I had neither the inclination to purchase items that would ultimately not serve any of my basic needs, nor the currency to do so. 

At eighteen hundred hours and two minutes, I noticed the large, several storied drinking, dining and gambling establishment known simply as Quark's Bar. I usually tend to avoid establishments of disrepute, but this establishment seemed to be the central hub for Deep Space Nine's civilian activity3 and as such the location were I could garner the most observations, and I saw several (presumably) off-duty Starfleet personnel there, so I made the logical assumption that there would be no or little violations of local legal statutes.

The noise level in the establishment was quite loud, ranging at approximately seventy-five decibels. I choose a small, square table by the side of one wall that was away from the rather rowdy behaviour of certain customers by the bar, and that incidentally allowed me an excellent view for all the various activities in the establishment, including drinking at the bar, conversing at the tables whilst dining, and partaking in the various games of chance in the back of the bar, most notably the Ferengi game of Dabo4.

Shortly after my entrance into the establishment, a Ferengi5 requesting a drink or food order accosted me. I turned down the offer, having eaten a nutritional supplement before disembarking from the _Nimitz_. The Ferengi attempted to persuade me to consume nevertheless, and spoke at length about the quality of his products, the history of his products, and the various cultural usages of his products. Since this was only a sales bid (and I suspected some of the information to be false), I determined that listening to this non-essential information was a poor usage of my time, and repeated to the vendor that I was not interested in his products. The Ferengi still persisted, and I felt a surge of irritation at being harassed in this way. After analyzing and dismissing the emotion, I determined that the source of the emotional reaction was the Ferengi. I informed him that I had no currency with which to consume, and the Ferengi appeared to quickly lose interest and move on to more profitable customers.

In the period between this "conversation" and the incident of civil unrest, many patrons came into the bar, though for convenience's sake I will only list those who will be relevant later on. The first was pair of Starfleet officers, both wearing blue uniforms designating them as being part of the medical/scientific branches. One was male human, lieutenant, early thirties, later identified as Doctor Julian Bashir, and the other was a female Trill, lieutenant junior grade, late twenties, later identified as Counsellor Ezri Dax. The way they behaved, with nervous affectations and avoiding eye contact, led me to believe that there was some unresolved issues between the two, most probably related to mating. Again, I am forced to note how complicated mating rituals seem to be for emotionally driven species.

At eighteen hundred hours and thirty-two minutes, a trio of Klingons entered the establishment, undoubtedly on shore leave from the Rotarran. Once they began participating in the revelries, the decibel level rose to approximately ninety. Shortly thereafter, I noticed a Ferengi in a gold Starfleet uniform enter. I was initially suspicious of such a display, but the other Starfleet officers seemed to know him so I took no action6.

At nineteen hundred hours minus two minutes, a trio of Romulans entered the establishment. I immediately saw the potential for confrontation between the arrogant Romulans and the now partially inebriated Klingons. Both had a long-standing animosity towards the other group, as well as poor self-control. Apparently, the other patrons of Quark's Bar saw the potential for conflict as well, because the decibel level dropped sharply to fifty.

The Romulans choose to take no notice of their effects of their entrance into the bar on the patrons, sat at a central table and called over a waiter. Instead, the Klingons approached their table.

The lead Klingon asked the Romulans what it felt like to be fleeing from Jem'Hadar, in reference to the recent Romulan withdrawal from the contested Denorios Belt. The Romulans' Centurion replied that they were not part of that task force, and then pointed out to the Klingons that while their ships were still intact, the Klingons had taken heavy losses during the course of the war. The Klingons accused the Romulans of being "dishonourable cowards", and the Romulans riposted by calling the Klingons "inept blood-thirsty suicidal savages". 

It is my belief that this trading of insults was only a formality, and that both parties had been meaning to fight each other upon sight. I propose that in the future shore leaves for both parties are regulated so as not to coincide7.

Regardless of motivations, the Klingons let out a war cry and attacked the Romulans. At this point in time, I felt that it was part of my duty as a Starfleet Officer to intervene in the conflict in order to put an end to it. I observed that Bashir, Dax, Nog and the Ferengi I had pegged as Quark also moved towards the belligerents. The bartender, moving surprisingly quickly, was the first to reach the conflicting parties, but his attempt to calm them down were unsuccessful. One of the Klingons picked him up by his clothes and threw him over the bar.

Doctor Julian Bashir made a similar attempt, and was rewarded by being attacked by one of the Romulans. Ensign Nog made an abortive attempt at bringing one of the Klingons to heel, but was pushed away with such vehemence that he was lifted seventy centimetres into the air and landed on a table a meter away, breaking it. Lieutenant Dax tried to free her companion from the grips of his Romulan counterpart, but delivered a clasped-hand blow to the back with was ineffective. The Romulan took a moment to deliver a blow against the side of her head, effectively taking her out of the fight8.

By now I had reached the conflict area and walked up behind the Romulan in question. I applied the Vulcan nerve-pinch, and it had the desired effect of having the Romulan crumple to the ground. Doctor Bashir unnecessarily thanked me, then cried out a warning. I turned around just into to spot a Rigellian trader (it would seem that the conflagration had spread from an isolated fight in a fully fledged brawl) leap at me off a nearby table.

I was about to riposte when I heard the sound of phaser fire. Since this was a much more deadly weapon than hand-to-hand combat, I immediately disengaged from my combatant (a task made easier by the fact that he had also ceased fighting). The phaser had been fired by a woman garbed in the beige uniform of Deep Space Nine's Bajoran security force. Another similarly dressed man informed us to cease and desist, and that we were all under arrest. Because of the brawl, it took me approximately 2.3 seconds to identify him as Constable Odo, the Founder supposedly sympathetic to our side.

By this time, the establishment had suffered much in terms of property damage, and I heard the Ferengi proprietor make empty threats that he would demand compensation from all participants. The wounded were taking to the infirmary. Constable Odo had his deputies make a circle around us and herded us into cells in the Security Office, making certain to separate the belligerents. After, he sat behind his desk and began reading over reports.

Puzzled over the lack of activity, I approached the force field of my cell, and attempted to identify myself to Odo, as well as describe the circumstances of the incident and my role in it. At first he paid no heed to my words, and then began to alternatively chuckle, snort and roll his eyes. He informed me that I should "tell it to the Magistrate", and yet did not provide me with either the tools or the opportunity to do so. Doctor Bashir, in the same cell as I was, informed me that my attempts at communicating with the Founder were futile and doomed to fail. When I enquired as to what would work, he said "Waiting" and stretch out of his bunk. Since I had no desire to waste time sitting in a cell when I had committed no apparent crime, this was not an option I wished to pursue. I continued interrogating and pleading my case to the Constable, but got no reaction. After several other of the cell's occupants informed me that they would attempt to insert objects into various bodily cavities if I did not "shut up"9, I choose to discontinue my efforts since they were an obvious waste of energy. Instead, and began meditating on the events which had led me to that rather cramped and unpleasant cell.

I remained there for a startling six hours before Deep Space Nine's Commanding Officer, Captain Benjamin Sisko, came down to the Security Office and proceeded to berate us for our supposed misconduct, even though I and several of the others in the cells (such as Doctor Bashir) were not to blame for the incident. Logically, one would have expected Captain Sisko to be grateful for our attempts (though unsuccessful) at diffusing the situation. Yet this did not appear to be the case, as Captain Sisko repeatedly told us that he was "shocked" to see allies fighting and "disappointed" to see that Starfleet Officers participated in the incident. When I attempted to explain to him the exact circumstances of the fight, he informed me: "I don't want to hear it, mister."10

However, Captain Sisko did release us from the holding cells, allowing me to return to the _Nimitz_. By this time, I was twenty-five minutes late for my Gamma shift on the bridge.

In conclusion, I would like to repeat my affirmations to my innocence in the conflagration and that I was only attempting to diffuse the situation and, afterwards, defend myself. Had the security chief been willing to listen to me, I would not have been late for the beginning of my shift this morning.

Commander Sumak

1. Due to the rigors of the current war against the Dominion forces, I find that it is beneficial to one's mental health to take the time to meditate on the nature, circumstances and motivations of this war. As I had previously done so during my free shift on the day before, I was not in need of purging.

2. I believe that the purpose to life is to gather a wealth of varying experiences, as long as they are not harmful to the self or others since logically such damaging experiences can only serve to stunt one's growth as an individual. The period in which an individual is limited to a mere two hundred years, often less for other species, and so one must question themselves as to what purpose they which to serve during this period. I have come to the logical conclusion that my purpose is to accumulate as many experiences as possible in order to assist the individual who will receive my _katra_ during their period of existence, who will then propagate the cycle.

3. It has come to my attention that most species consider locales that offer food services to be a place for congregation and social interaction, much like our own Ten-Forward lounge aboard the _Nimitz_. For example, the establishments that saw the most activity after Quark's Bar was a section of the Promenade known as the Replimat and an establishment offering Klingon cuisine. 

4. From my observations and what I know about the game of Dabo, the number of victorious spins was lesser than the odds in such a case would warrant, leading me to believe that the Dabo tables in Quark's Bar are either malfunctioning or rigged.

5. This Ferengi's clothing was much more elaborate and colourful than that of the others in the bar, leading me to the logical deduction that this was in fact the proprietor of the establishment, probably named Quark judging by the name of the establishment. I further postulate that the wildly clashing colours of his garb are an attempt to disorient the customers, leaving them more susceptible to the Ferengi's financial predations. Unfortunately for him, it had no effect on me.

6. Later research indicates that this was Ensign Nog, the only Ferengi in Starfleet. I choose to take this as a further example of the IDIC (Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations) Principle.

7. See attached file, "A Proposal to Regulate Shore Leaves of Belligerent Parties to Decrease the Possibility of Conflicts" by Commander Sumak, Executive Officer, U.S.S. _Nimitz_ to Captain Benjamin Sisko, Commanding Officer, Space Station Deep Space Nine.

8. It might be a good idea to suggest to Captain Sisko to institute mandatory sessions of hand-to-hand combat skills for his personnel. I understand the dictates of the Hippocratic Oath, both even medical officers must be able to hold their ground in combat should the situation arise.

9. What they were proposing was physiologically impossible, though I have no illusion that many of them would have liked to try nevertheless, which could have resulted in bodily harm to myself.

10. I suspect that the pressures of being such a key player in the war against the Dominion might be affecting Captain Sisko's judgement, and recommend full psychiatric evaluation.


End file.
